Big Bad Billionaire (The Woolven Secret Book 1) (17 page)

“You don’t have to shoulder this alone. Don’t second guess yourself. You’ve come this far. I haven’t seen war, but look at how you’ve led your pack, your company. It’s successful because of your decisions.”

“And if it all crashes and burns, the people who die, the people who suffer, that’s all because of my decisions, too.” Blake inhaled deeply and confessed, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“My parents were both killed because of a war with de la Luna.” Confessing his fears, it didn’t feel weak. He didn’t feel like any less of an Alpha for sharing his feelings with her.

He didn’t feel like he was putting down the mantle so much as sharing the mantle with her, as his partner.

His mate.

Oh Goddess, he couldn’t lose her. But a sense of dread hung over him like a shadow, letting him know exactly that would happen.

“I’m not going anywhere, Blake. And God help the man or beast that tries to take me from you.”

Chapter Seventeen

So, vampires were a thing. Or, the Vampyr as Blake called them.

She supposed it made sense. She was a werewolf. They were going to Russia to meet vampires.

Randi wasn’t sure which she found more unbelievable—vampires, or that Blake Woolven, billionaire, occasionally flew commercial. That was something she was never going to do again if she didn’t have to.

One trip on the private jet, and she’d been spoiled for life. The private jet was all about luxury and comfort. While they sat in first class, at her size and hip ratio, she’d still felt cramped and not just a bit cranky after the four hour flight.

She replayed the events over in her head as they were ushered to a car directly on the tarmac.

Randi wondered how her father had taken all of this in.

God, she missed him.

He’d have been so excited at the prospect of such fantastic things being reality. Above all, he was a scientist. He’d have been so curious about this new world around him. She finally let herself believe he wouldn’t have been afraid.

He would never have taken his own life, no matter what he saw or discovered. Not when their secret opened up whole new world for him to play in.

She hadn’t really let herself grieve him. Before, she was just angry. Before, she could focus on destroying Blake and Woolven Industries, but now this was where she belonged and she didn’t have any walls left to shut out the pain.

Now that she was alone with it, her grief dug sharp claws into her heart. She was alone in the world. She had Blake, which afforded a level of security, of safety. But being without her father and her mother, she felt adrift, abandoned, orphaned.

Losing her father ripped away an inherent security blanket, a sense that things would always, somehow, be okay.

They would only be okay if she made them okay.

No one could do it for her now, not even Blake.

She touched her fingers to the tender place on her neck where he’d marked her. It grounded her, helped her feel like she could build a new foundation.

But nothing would ever be the same again.

Rage burned for what was taken from her.

Blake’s hand tightened on her arm, a firm, solid grip. Just enough pressure to get her attention. “You’re hovering right on the edge of the Change. Whatever you’re thinking about, think about something else. You can’t walk into a murder of Vampyr like that.”

“A murder? I thought that was crows?”

“A group of fairies is called an unkindness. Much like ravens,” he said. “You have much to learn. Westwood will help you. She probably has some kind of enchantment to help you learn everything, knowing her.”

“No, I’d rather do it the old-fashioned way. Although, the idea of that does intrigue me.”

“Look—” His face suddenly became somber and drawn “—you’re going to see things. Terrible things you cannot change. To even comment on them could get us both killed. I’m strong, but not enough to take out a murder of Vampyr.”

She took a deep breath. “I understand.”

“We’re actually going to a small island in the Gulf of Finland. It’s not technically part of any country. It’s called Upyrion.”

“Let me guess. All bloodsucker, all the time?”

“Yes. They are a law unto themselves, or rather Evgeni Kumarin is.”

“And that’s who we’re going to see.” She nodded as she digested the information.

“It’s daylight outside. The sun doesn’t bother them. There are other, weaker bloodlines that have such thin, papyrus like skin they can’t tolerate light without burning or bruising, but Evgeni is a pureblood. The only thing that can kill them is Blessed Ash.”

“What if they’re atheists?”

Blake raised a brow. “Like most things, the wielder has to believe it will work. It doesn’t matter what the Vampyr believes.”

“Do we happen to have any Ash lying around?” she asked.

He laughed. “No. That would be like someone showing up at Aphelion with silver. I’d tear their head off.”

“What about our venom?” She wanted to know how she could protect herself, if to the need arose.

“Decapitation can work. Our venom keeps them from healing as fast, but theirs does the same to us.”

“And Grigori, the wolf you were talking about—he does business with these creatures?”

“Warner believes he’s been supplying them with blood stock.”

Her stomach turned. “You don’t mean from a blood bank, either, do you?” She bit her lip, as if the pain would somehow keep the bile down.

“No, Randi. I don’t.”

Human beings
. That’s what he meant she’d see. People being used only for their blood. She’d bet they were treated worse than cattle, too.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“Yes, you can. For your father. For the pack.” He tilted her face to his. “For me.” He kissed her softly. “For yourself.”

She was glad he had so much faith in her because she had none in herself. Not when it came to this. This wasn’t vaporizing Hector. This wasn’t standing up to Warner. This was watching an atrocity and letting slide like it didn’t matter. This was staying quiet because they were too weak to stand up and speak.

It wasn’t brave to do nothing.

Her father would not be proud of her.

“I know what you’re thinking. Your father would simply want you to stay alive. In this case, brokering with Evgeni is the lesser evil. Until we can find a way to subdue Breslin, don’t forget he’s infected. They can help us catch him and, most importantly, contain him.”

She exhaled. “Human trafficking, that’s the lesser evil?”

“They may be the key to Grigori’s downfall as well.”

“Part of me wishes you sent me back to Aphelion, so I couldn’t fuck this up for you.”

“You’re not going to fuck it up, Randi. You’re going to go in there, and you’re going to do just fine.”

She wrinkled her nose as the ferry neared the island. “What the hell is that stench?”

“Death. It’s how they smell to us. We smell like burned dog hair to them, so it’s fair.”

“I think I’m going to vomit.”

“Here.” He handed her a cough drop. “These help make the scent less offensive.”

“Can I have two?” She swallowed hard.

He raised a brow. “Sure, you can have two in your mouth.”

“You have a dirty mind, Mr. Woolven.”

He leaned over and pressed her back into the seat. “Mr. Woolven? I think I like that. How about we revisit this line of conversation when we’re stateside? You can storm into my office again, take me to task and, in turn, I shall take you to task. Over my desk.”

A low heat began to simmer in her belly. “You mean the same desk where you were fucking another wolf?”

“No. I’ll get rid of that desk. Burn it. Blow it up. Whatever you want.” He nipped at her neck. “I’ll burn down the whole building and start over if it would make you happy.”

It was exactly what she wanted to hear. “No, but I love that you offered.”

“Red, I’d do anything for you. Don’t you know that by now?”

“Yeah, but I still like hearing it.”

The ferry docked and the driver pulled onto the island. A large, cathedral-like building loomed in the distance. Practically a castle, with onion domes aplenty, it seemed to be a bigger, statelier version of St. Basil’s Cathedral.

“It’s so beautiful.”

“Ah, now Aphelion will pale in comparison.” Blake gave a faux sigh.

She knew what he was doing, trying to lull her into a sense of comfort and safety so she’d relax and focus on him, on them, instead of the task ahead.

“Do all murders exist so lavishly?”

“No. Certainly not. The Spectrals live in sewers and catacombs. Elementals live in trees and running water.”

“I have much to learn.”

“But they don’t need to know that,” he said as the car rolled to a stop.

She pulled her courage around her like a mantle, pinning logic and reason to her shoulders like epaulettes, ready to face the monsters in the dark.

Err… sunlight.

Whatever.

A male dressed in a smart uniform opened the door to their car with a gloved hand. “So good to see you again, Mr. Woolven. Master expects you in the main hall. The wraiths will escort you.”

Wraiths? Just how big was the unseen? How did they stay hidden?

When they stepped inside the beautiful building, Randi did her best not to wander with her mouth agape. The very essence of opulence, the inside looked rather the way she’d imagine the inside of a genie’s bottle might appear. Thick tapestries hung on every wall, finely woven rugs lay underfoot, and plush areas invited reclining, all of it in the brightest jewel tones.

Something a bit like a sentient breeze tangled itself in her hair and moved along her scalp in the most pleasing manner. It propelled her forward gently, turning her down a long, gilded hallway which opened into a great room filled with Vampyr in various tangles of feeding, sleeping, or fucking— a veritable feast of hedonism. She didn’t know where to look first.

Until a man on a golden throne captured her gaze—no, not a man.
Vampyr.

He wore his hair long, to his shoulders, all snowy white, just like his skin. The irises of his eyes were blood red. He was terrible, but had a fey, almost delicate beauty about him.

Dressed in a red brocade jacket, black silk lounge pants and nothing else, he was obviously a showman.

When he smiled, he revealed strange, sharp teeth like ice… or maybe diamonds.

“Welcome, Blake Woolven. It has been a long time.” He spread his hands wide in a gesture of welcome.

Randi didn’t know how Blake could stand to be so close to him.

She noticed, when he turned to her, his red brocade coat gaped open and revealed a tattoo of a church on his chest with what seemed like a hundred spires. She wondered what it meant.

“Is this for me? You know how I love red,” their host said smiling at her.

“No. This is my Randi.” Blake introduced her.

Evgeni smiled at her, flashing those eerie teeth. “Ah, lovely.” He took her hand and kissed it with a flourish. “I am Evgeni Kumarin.”

His old school manners would’ve made her blush if not for the fact he was Creepy McHellNo. She withdrew her hand.

God, she needed another cough drop.

All of the eyes in the room turned to them and a prickling awareness slithered down her spine. Rage pooled hot and volcanic, blood boiling and melting her bones into the Change. But the cool geis of her submission to her Alpha, his edict, helped keep the beast at bay.

“Pardon my lack of refreshment to offer you, but as this visit was quite last minute, I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, the reason we’ve come with only a phone call. We have a problem.”

“Oh?” Evgeni turned away from them and wandered casually toward a large door. “We, as in you and yours, or we, as in you and I?”

“Have you heard of Peter Breslin?”

“The hunter?” Evgeni snorted. “He’s a gnat.”

“He’s a nigh indestructible gnat with a propensity for blood and an immunity to silver.”

Evgeni paused and turned back to face Blake. “And who made this creature? Was it you?”

“No. But you should know he has berserker status. If you were to catch him, we’d allow you to keep him. A gift, if you will.” Blake shrugged as if the giving and taking of this life was nothing more than a bolt of cloth or an unwanted castoff.

“That’s just what we need. Infected berserkers in the cages that we can’t control.”

“Imagine the spectacle if you put him in the arena. One match, and you’d make millions.”

“What else is it you’ve come to get from me?” Evgeni led them through the door and into private apartments.

“Your business with Grigori Remus.”

“So has Woolven finally decided to lock jaws with Remus and take all his toys?”

“I believe he tried to steal mine. Specifically, a scientist who worked for me. David Rutger.” Blake answered him in the same unaffected tone.

“Hmm. And what are you offering that I should give you this information?” Evgeni demurred.

The wolf in Randi wanted to erupt for her and tell him he’d get to keep his life and that was trade enough, but again, she pushed it down. This part of her that had been missing for so long, this strength that rose up in her to fill the cracks the death of her father had left behind. Yet she had to smother it, choke it, and chain it down.

She was tired of chains, tired of cages…

“I would love to see this one fight. The fire sparks in her eyes constantly. Is she blooded?”

Randi drew herself straight and fixed him with a hard stare. “That’s not a question you ask a lady.”

Evgeni laughed. “Indeed, it isn’t. My apologies, fire hair.”

“Would you really like to see me fight?” Randi asked, tone sweet as pie.

“Randi—” Blake’s voice was a warning.